The Worst of Words
by Kate Christie
Summary: More than two months after the crash that took her fiancé, the only thing keeping Kate Beckett afloat is her conviction that Richard Castle is alive. But in order to remain at work and on the investigation into his apparent death, Beckett is forced by her therapist to keep a daily journal. Summer 2014 #CastleFicathon. Thanks to @ trekker (Angie) for art-on-demand!
1. Chapter 1

5/19/2014

I hate this.

I don't know how to do this.

I don't want to do this.

Words are supposed to be your job.


	2. Chapter 2

5/20/2014

I don't sleep much.  
I see your car when I close my eyes.  
And then I see the body on Lanie's table.

I'm tired of waking Martha and Alexis with the nightmares.  
They have their own grief; they don't need mine.


	3. Chapter 3

5/21/2014

Almost midnight.

On our island, it's already morning.

Today was supposed to be my day to surprise you - a seaplane and a dive with the Mantas.

I had one for you - a stuffed one, with furry gray wings. He's here with me now.


	4. Chapter 4

5/22/2014

Every night, Gates kicks me out. Every night, I end up here. I have no idea why.

No, that's a lie. You can always tell when I'm lying.

Your pillow still smells like you.


	5. Chapter 5

5/23/2014

It's not fair.

Is this some sick joke the universe is playing on me?

Here, fulfill your life's goal.

Avenge the death of the person you loved the most in the whole world.

And along the way, find the love of your life.

Oh, but by the way, as soon as you do, we're taking him away.

.

Rick where are you?


	6. Chapter 6

5/24/2014

Your fingers have been here - spent hours on these keys. I can feel the ghost of them when I type. It helps, my hands being where yours have been.

I think about them a lot - your hands. I miss waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of them writing our story. But mostly I miss how they fit together with mine, fill the hollows and the gaps and hold on tight.

I'm not ready to let go.


	7. Chapter 7

5/25/2014

I bought a new chain. Even with the diamond on my finger, the other two were too heavy. The new one is tough, though - unbreakable.

Alexis took me to your guy; I think she wanted to make sure I didn't go to the 12th again. Charlie didn't know about you, said he doesn't have time for TV. He asked if I wanted to return the wedding bands. I told him that was what the chain was for.

They'll be with me until I find you.


	8. Chapter 8

5/26/2014

I saw Burke today. He didn't ask to read these; I thought he would. He seemed surprised, as much as he ever does, that I had done what he asked.

I told him I was writing to you.

He asked if I was investigating the case again. I didn't lie, I just didn't tell him about Saturday, or today.

But Castle, I think I have a lead.


	9. Chapter 9

5/27/2014

I'm here again.

The house is dark. I can hear the waves through the window, rough from the rain.

Someone dealt with the rest of the favors, with my mess from last time.

Burke was right; I shouldn't have been here then.

But now, now I just need sleep. A few hours in the guest room, and I can start fresh.

Brady called last night, said he had a witness.

So I had to come back.

She saw the car, Castle.


	10. Chapter 10

5/28/2014

I slept last night - well enough to dream.

For the first time since that day, it wasn't a nightmare.

We were driving north out of the city, and you were holding my hand.

You had that smile on your face, the one I can never catch with a camera.

When I woke up, I swear I could still feel you with me, could hear your voice in my head telling me not to cry.

So I got up, followed the trail.

It didn't lead back to the city. The boys stayed up all night going through footage, but the car wasn't there.

I found the ferry captain that took that dented black Escalade across the Sound to Connecticut.

You were in that car. Just because no one saw you doesn't mean you weren't hidden in back.

I'm so close; I just need one more breadcrumb.

I should try to sleep again. Maybe you'll come back to me for a little while.


	11. Chapter 11

5/29/2014

We've got the Escalade.

Tip came in through the Connecticut state police this morning from the APB on the partial license plate, and now there are Feds combing every inch of that SUV. Nothing yet, but there will be.

I think I knocked on half the doors in Bridgeport today. No hits, but now with the Feds we have the manpower, the tools.

No way I'm getting any sleep tonight, but I came back to the hotel anyway. I needed a shower, a change of clothes.

Who am I kidding? I wanted to write to you tonight. As much as I hated doing this at first, Burke was right. It helps. Especially now, when I actually have something positive to say. Don't you dare tell him I said so; he's smug enough as it is.

.

Hang on, Rick, wherever you are. I'm almost there.


	12. Chapter 12

5/30/2014

I can't – I just –

Not tonight.


	13. Chapter 13

5/31/2014

I'm sorry, I just couldn't write last night.

We found it.

I was so sure you were going to be inside, but there was nothing. Not even a trace. Wiped clean.

It all fit so perfectly, straight out of _Nikki Heat_. The paint chip from the passenger door of the Escalade matched your Mercedes. The resin in the tire tread led us straight to the abandoned plastics plant.

And then we went in, and those plot threads unraveled.

It was empty. No signs of a struggle. No evidence anyone had been there at all. The FBI forensics team started their sweep, but it looked like a wild goose chase.

I was back on the side of that road, watching the flames.

That day, I put on my mother's dress the happiest woman in the world, and I took it off crying so hard I couldn't see the fasteners, had to ask your mother to work the buttons and hooks and ties.

I had put that darkness behind me. The hope of finding you alive had kept me from sinking. But last night... At least I made it back to my room at the hotel before it took me under.

My phone woke me before dawn. The team found your breadcrumb - the blood inside the exhaust vent, where no one would see. We don't have the DNA back yet, but I know it's yours. You got that from my letter, the one I almost didn't let you read.

Castle, you are alive. You were in that warehouse. I will find you.


	14. Chapter 14

6/1/2014

We would have been getting back today. I was supposed to have a tan and sun-streaked hair and really sore muscles from getting so much… exercise, and I would have let you hold my hand all the way home on the plane. Right now I'd settle for pale skin, dull hair, and exhaustion from staying up all night trying to find you, if I could just hold your hand in the front seat of my car on our way home from whatever godforsaken place you're being held.

DNA came back. I was right. You were there. But when, and for how long? The Escalade was spotted over a week ago.

I called Martha and Alexis as soon as I had the results. They miss you, but they're holding up. I must say, their strength and optimism continue to impress me. Maybe it's because they have each other. They're worried about me. I told them as long as there is something to do here, I can't come back to the city. I can't make promises. It isn't fair to them, just like it wouldn't have been fair to you last year when Alexis was taken.

We're almost back where we were two days ago, with no leads to carry the investigation forward. But at least now we have proof they have you, whomever "they" are. No one would come out and say "cold feet," but the Feds were thinking it loudly until the DNA came back today.

Regardless, they don't have a next step. The car was stolen from a private transportation company in South Hampton. No witnesses there. The abandoned plant is owned by a corporation that moved its business overseas half a decade ago. No surveillance cameras, no security, and not many neighbors. So far no one is admitting to seeing or hearing anything suspicious.

I'm meeting the owner of the plant myself tomorrow, and I'm talking to the neighbors one by one. Someone had to have seen something.

The sun was out today. I stopped for a minute as I was getting out of my car and tipped my face up into that warm, yellow light. When I opened my eyes, all I saw was blue sky, and for just a moment, you were there behind me, about to step up and wrap your arms around my shoulders, hold me gently and whisper in my ear that it was time to go home.

And it is. Come home to me, Castle. Come home.


	15. Chapter 15

6/2/2014

Nothing. Three days, and still nothing.

The Feds are starting to lose interest.

I called Agent Shaw. She was kind, in her no-nonsense way. She's not coming up, though. She has a serial killer to catch in Alabama.

At this point, I'm going to be talking to neighbors for the second and third time.

Ryan and Esposito stayed as long as they could, but Gates needed someone back at the precinct. She hasn't mentioned my coming back yet. I'm not sure she will.

Burke asked me in that quiet, completely disconcerting tone how long I would be staying. When I called to cancel my appointment today, he called me back and insisted we at least talk on the phone for my hour. He told me he was proud of me for keeping up the writing.

I can't go yet, Rick. You were here. This is the last place I know you sat, and stood, and walked, and breathed. I know you aren't here any more, but being here makes me feel closer to you, like maybe an echo of you will whisper a clue in my ear.

The last words you said to me do echo in my head. At least this time you got to hear them back from me.


	16. Chapter 16

6/3/2014

Burke asked if I was sleeping; he knows my tells. I told him I was, a little. And that's true. I nod off when I can't keep my eyes open on the evidence any longer.

Last night I dreamed about Tyson. He and his little girlfriend were playing house with you as their favorite pet. I know I said I thought he was dead, but apparently my subconscious disagrees.

Somehow sleep isn't so restful when there is a psychotic serial killer with a personal vendetta chasing you behind your eyelids.

But if this is Tyson, why hasn't he called?


	17. Chapter 17

6/4/2014

I got kicked out of Connecticut this morning.

The Sheriff apparently didn't appreciate my investigative style. The phrase "my jurisdiction, my way," may have been directed at me, along with a glare that made Gates look warm and fuzzy by comparison. It probably didn't help that I had just called the man's integrity and leadership skills into question. I couldn't help it; he told me to stop interrogating the neighbors from near the warehouse where you were held.

So now I'm back in the Hamptons.

I spent the day retracing the drive from the ferry to the crash site, then to the company where they stole the Escalade. You would think with that gas mileage they would have stopped somewhere, but no one remembered the car or any suspicious strangers.

I'm at the house again. Every time I'm here, the memory of our day gets a little dimmer. It's like a dream that fades so quickly after waking that you can't be sure you ever really dreamt it at all.

I'll take it, though; dreams are the only place I can find you anymore.


	18. Chapter 18

6/5/2014

Even coffee tastes bitter on my tongue without you.


	19. Chapter 19

6/6/14

This isn't how it's supposed to go.

When I personally call every contact I have who could give me intel on Bracken and his organization's activities, something is supposed to shake out.

When I cash in every favor I have left with the NYPD, the mayor, the FBI, and the AG's office, someone is supposed to get back to me with a tip.

When I speak to every gas station attendant and convenience store clerk along three different 50-mile routes across Long Island, one of them is supposed to remember a banged up Escalade and give me a face or a credit card transaction or a name or some goddamn fucking clue as to who the hell staged my husband's death and then TOOK HIM without a ransom note or a taunting phone call or some tiny indication that he is out there somewhere ALIVE.

I am not supposed to fail you, Rick.


	20. Chapter 20

6/7/14

Your mother and daughter came up to the Hamptons today. They didn't come to get some time away or deal with their grief. They came to collect me.

I've been so good, Castle. I've called and told them what I'm doing; they know everything that's happened since you disappeared. I owed it to them to be honest. I owed it to you.

But this afternoon they came for me. They said they want me with them. They said I could keep working your case from the city. They didn't say they've lost hope, but I'm afraid they may be starting to.

It's been almost a month, Rick.

Either you are already dead, and I'm searching for... closure, or somewhere on this planet someone has you, has done maybe horrible things to you, could be doing them right now as I sit on our bed typing on your laptop.

All this time, I've been so sure you were alive. But the truth is, I have no evidence that you made it out of that warehouse. Martha told me to have faith; that the rest would come. It reminded me of what you told me when all our plans for the ceremony were falling apart. I want the happy ending. But after so much tragedy, so many dead ends, maybe we aren't that fairy tale after all.


	21. Chapter 21

6/8/2014

You have a beautiful family, Rick. I've seen it before, but now I've experienced it for myself. I just wish I had had the opportunity to make them my family, too.


	22. Chapter 22

6/9/2014

I was back at work this morning, had just caught a case when the word came.

Your Bucket List account.

The one you said you used only when you ought to know better than to spend the money in the first place.

The FBI had it, and all the rest of your financials, covered, just in case something pinged.

And today, it pinged.

Fifty thousand dollars makes a pretty loud ping.

Castle, are you really out there? For the first time in days, I feel like maybe you are.


	23. Chapter 23

6/10/2014

The money was routed electronically through seven banks in four countries before they lost the trail.

How do you lose a fucking money trail when you're the FBI, with the full resources of the US federal government at your disposal?

I asked if Tory would look into what they found. At least I know she'll actually try.

The final jump they could trace was to a shell corporation in the Cayman Islands. But they say it didn't stop there.

Castle, this has to be you. You never shared the codes for that account with anyone, not even your family or your money guys. You said this was your play money that they weren't allowed to invest or keep track of. If this money was touched, that code came from you.

So the way I see it, one of two things has happened.

Either you're free, and you're using this money to get away and come back home, or the person who took you finally got the code out of you.

But why would someone steal tens of thousands when you have access to millions? Could they be stupid enough to think we wouldn't be tracking your account?

Or did you do this as some kind of signal, a clue to us, gambling that the bad guys wouldn't pick up on it? I'm giving myself a headache trying to make it make sense.

I put Burke off yesterday because of this lead. He nearly raised his voice when I tried putting him off again today. He says I need to sleep more. The fact that I nodded off in his chair in the middle of a sentence probably didn't help my case.

Do you sleep, wherever you are?


	24. Chapter 24

6/11/2014

Every time my phone rang today, I half expected you to be on the other end of the call, voice all hollow and crackly from calling on a pay phone in the middle of nowhere, asking me to come pick you up in some other time zone, or on some other continent.

It was never you.

It was Lanie asking if I had eaten lunch.

It was Tory telling me she had hit the same dead ends as the FBI.

It was Alexis asking if I would be home in time for dinner, and did I feel like lasagna.

It was my dad, sounding hollow in his own way, asking if I was okay today.

God I miss your voice.

Especially the pitch and timbre as I drift off, my head on your chest.

I can't seem to keep my eyes open tonight. Maybe Burke was right; maybe I do need more sleep. Then again, maybe it has nothing to do with sleep.

When I close my eyes, I see you.


	25. Chapter 25

6/12/2014

I slept through my alarm this morning.

But I'm not surprised.

We were making love.

You were curled around me on the big blue quilt we use for picnics, in that shady little dip of ground halfway between the house and the ocean in the Hamptons. You were holding a glass of champagne, using the drips of condensation to torture me as you sipped, and then following them with your mouth.

I woke up shaky, wanting, feeling your hands on me, your lips, the warm wash of your breath against my skin.

I was convinced for just a moment that it wasn't a dream.

But when I reached for you through that early gray light, all I found was your pillow, empty and cold.

# * # * # * #

Gorgeous, haunting art made by E (random-ship) on tumblr based on this chapter: random-ship dot tumblr dot com slash post slash 88687720298 slash in-the-light-of-day-by-e-inspired


	26. Chapter 26

6/13/2014

There's been nothing new. No further activity in your financial accounts. No attempts to contact us. You haven't miraculously appeared on the doorstep at the loft.

I've been over everything so many times; I could recite every statement from every guest at our wedding, every neighbor to the warehouse in Connecticut, the ninety-year-old from the Hamptons who remembered the SUV…

I'm tired, Castle. So tired.

Nothing makes sense.  
What little evidence we have doesn't fit into any story I can concoct.

I guess this is where we need a crazy theory from you to make the connections, weave the threads into something cohesive.

I think the stress is starting to get to me. My sleep schedule is off. My whole body is off.

I hate that I need you this much.

There has only been one other person I needed this way.

And after all these years, I still miss her every day.

Is that all you'll be for me twenty years from now – a ring on a chain and an aching, empty space in my heart?

# * # * # * #

Gorgeous, haunting art made by E (random-ship) on tumblr based on chapter 25: random-ship dot tumblr dot com slash post slash 88687720298 slash in-the-light-of-day-by-e-inspired


	27. Chapter 27

6/14/2014

I asked Lanie to go over the autopsy report with me again.

It's the one thing I haven't been able to go back to since that first week. Seeing what was left of that body on her table - not knowing yet for certain that it wasn't you - Rick, I got sick over the trash can in the bay before I could even make it to the bathroom. You know my iron stomach. She practically had to carry me to her office, I was so shaky and weak and crying so hard. So you can imagine why the thought of that autopsy report has made me nauseated ever since.

She insisted on coming to the loft - wouldn't let me meet her at the morgue. I haven't actually been back since that day. Even after your dental records came in without a match, and DNA backed them up, I still haven't been able to get the image of those charred remains out of my mind. Because in that moment, they were you.

That body, whoever he is, is probably our best lead. But there have been no missing persons reports that match the timing from anywhere near the Hamptons or in Connecticut. His DNA is not in the system, fingerprints were impossible, and he had what was left of your wallet, phone and keys on him. He had our rings in his pocket, too.

Whoever he was and whoever killed him, he was meant to look like you, enough so that until we got the proper records, we would all think he was.

With a little distance, I was able to listen and actually absorb more. He was killed before the fire - no signs of smoke inhalation or burns in his airway. Lanie couldn't identify an obvious wound or find bullets. The final toxicology report was negative as well. She can't narrow down cause of death any further, but she said if she had to guess, she would bet suffocation or a toxin she can't detect.

I'm going to expand our search of missing persons to the entire US and Canada; maybe we'll get lucky. As badly as I want to find you, Castle, with no leads on your case, I think I have to focus on what I do best - solving a murder.

I can only hope that finding this man's killer will lead me back to you.


	28. Chapter 28

6/15/2014

I stayed home today. Alexis didn't have a good night last night. She came home pretty upset a little while after Lanie left. She'd been crying, and she went straight up to her room, wouldn't even come out when your mom tried to get her to eat dinner with us. Around midnight, I woke up on the couch and heard her sobbing upstairs. Thankfully she hadn't locked the bathroom door, because I found her curled up in the corner of her bathtub, shower spraying ice cold on her shoulders.

Between getting her out and getting her dressed and warm, I pieced together that her friends had left her out of their shopping trip, and they had been looking guilty, stopping conversations when she walked into rooms. She confronted them, and it turned out they were buying Father's Day gifts yesterday, and they were too afraid to mention it to her. I think she kept it together until she got home, but then the floodgates opened.

All this time, she's been so strong, Castle. She's been a rock, a perpetual optimist, along with your mom. They have been the ones talking me off ledges, keeping me afloat when I felt like drowning.

Father's Day finally broke her.

She cried the last of it out with me, and at around 3AM we baked chocolate chip cookies. Then we stayed up until sunrise drinking hot chocolate with obscene amounts of that awful spray can whipped cream she insists on stocking in the fridge, and she fell asleep next to me in our bed.

We both slept half the day; I couldn't bring myself to go to the 12th. I called my dad, made him come over for dinner. I think Alexis liked that. She smiled while he was telling embarrassing stories about me.

I've never really considered myself a maternal person. With Alexis, I felt more like her friend than a parental figure. But losing you? I think I finally have something to offer her other than the occasional teenage pep talk. Meredith tried to help over the phone right after you disappeared, but Alexis wouldn't let her come here - said she didn't want to have to take care of her. She didn't ask for her mother last night, either. But she did ask me how I did it, how I made it through, and how I manage to function every day without my mom. I don't know if I said the right things, but I told her the truth. I remember once you said that was what you always did with her.

Right or wrong, what I said seemed to make a difference. Or else it was the half can of whipped cream. Oh, and there were marshmallows and chocolate syrup. I may have left that part out. When I brought the mugs in she said you would have been proud.


	29. Chapter 29

6/16/2014

It's been five weeks today since you disappeared.

Five weeks. Why would anyone hold you for this long without making demands?

The FBI has tabled your case.

Gates put me back on homicides.

So far, she hasn't told me not to investigate the murder of the man found in your car. I'm calling that a victory.

I've been through every missing person's report filed two months before and two weeks after, within a three-state radius. I'm about to look nationwide. Every male with the right height has dental records on their way to Lanie, but so far no matches.

Five weeks.

Five Sunday crosswords.

I've got them all here for us in your bottom drawer.

And I promise I won't cheat and look at the answers.


	30. Chapter 30

6/17/2014

Five weeks.

I woke up this morning and realized it's been five weeks.

Five.

I pulled up my calendar to check.

Five.


	31. Chapter 31

6/18/2014

I'm sure it's nothing.

Stress has made me miss before.

I'm sure that's all this is.

I'm exhausted, and my body is off.

I'm sure I'll wake up tomorrow morning and everything will be back on track.


	32. Chapter 32

6/19/2014

I went to the store on my way home today.

Figured it couldn't hurt to have one in the bathroom if I got paranoid. At least if it's negative, it would stop my brain from overreacting.

I haven't taken it yet.

The neon pink box is sitting in my drawer by the sink.

I'm not. It's ridiculous to even think it. There's just no way.


	33. Chapter 33

6/20/2014

I thought I stopped wanting coffee because you were gone.

But today I couldn't stand in the break room while Ryan made an espresso.

I had to step out. The smell turned my stomach.

I should take the damn test so my brain will quit imagining these ridiculous things.


	34. Chapter 34

6/21/14

The cover for _Raging Heat_ is out. I remember you tried to show me the art before the wedding, but I said I didn't want to have any part of it if Nikki was naked again. It's a good thing I didn't see it, because I would have found some method of persuasion to force you to put some clothes on her for once.

Paula and Gina both tried to shield us, but the vultures got through anyway. Half a dozen calls to the loft asking for Alexis, Martha, or me to comment on "what is likely the final book of the Nikki Heat series."

Asshole reporters.

We started screening calls after the first one got an earful from your mom. You'll be happy to know her flair for the dramatic remains intact.

Alexis took it hard, that the media have essentially declared you dead. But she came out of it with a heavy dose of optimism, and a surprising degree of empathy and compassion, on your mother's part. And then there was a spa visit. They invited me, but I had to run down a lead on the case we're working for Gates.

Still no hits on missing persons. I'm starting to think like you - pitching CIA theories to Espo and Ryan. They're working your case with me on the side. As much as they can, anyway.

I'm not quitting.

I don't care what the media, or the FBI, or even Gates have to say.

I need you, Rick.

Maybe now more than ever.

This can't be the end of Nikki Heat.


	35. Chapter 35

6/22/2014

I know it's only two minutes.

The timer on my phone is ticking down.

But I had to distract myself somehow.

If you were here, you would be shopping for stuff online or surfing name websites or something equally insane when there is just absolutely no way that I'm-

Oh god.


	36. Chapter 36

6/23/2014

I'm numb. I just don't know-

Rick, I can't do this without you.


	37. Chapter 37

6/24/2014

I called my doctor's office today. If you were here, you would have made me go today. Probably would have gone with me and forced me to play hooky to get ice cream afterward. But I have an appointment tomorrow.

I'll go.

I promise.

Even if the jerk of a husband who I swear is behind our current case shows up for questioning.

I'll go.

I owe it to you - to us - to do everything right. Everything that I can do right without you.


	38. Chapter 38

6/25/2014

I went to my appointment today; just saw a medical tech to draw the blood. She said I'd probably hear back from them tomorrow or Friday.

I feel like I'm in a fog. Everything outside my own head, my own body, is a little blurred, a little muffled. I know the boys have noticed I'm off - my attention keeps drifting in the middle of case updates.

We closed that one today, and it was Ryan who had the "ah ha." I would have sent us all off on a wild goose chase focused on the poor, innocent husband.

I need to pull it together, but every time I think about… this, I hear your voice from our last phone call, and I wonder where the hell you are.

I need to hear those words in my ear, Castle, not just in my memories.


	39. Chapter 39

6/26/2014

Castle I got a call today. I knew her chirpy "Miss Beckett?" right away. I met her at the doctor's office - front office, the blonde with the obnoxiously perky voice and the perfectly glossed blonde hair. She was wearing pink scrubs. There should be a law against hot pink scrubs with leopard print trim.

But she was the one.

I was at my desk, reading the autopsy report again, and I saw the caller ID on my cell, and my heart started pounding. I almost didn't pick up.

I didn't want to hear the answer.

And then she was chirping and perky and "I wanted to call right away because we got the results of your test back just now and I hope it's not an inconvenient time?"

I couldn't catch my breath. For half a second, I thought I was going to be sick.

I had no idea what answer I wanted to hear.

Until I heard it.

Everything suddenly got warm.

I smiled, Rick.

Because no matter what else happens, now I know I have part of you with me. And if that's all I ever get, I swear it will be enough.

I will make it enough.

Always.


	40. Chapter 40

6/27/2014

The day you disappeared, I was a mess. I did some really stupid things.

When Lanie had conclusive evidence that it wasn't your body, I did some even more stupid things.

But now, looking back on that week, it isn't chasing down Rogan and accusing him and his girlfriend of conspiring to murder you, or storming into the records office and demanding to review any recent changes made to our marriage records, or finding that troop of fire eaters and threatening to charge them with accessory to murder that I'm most ashamed of.

What I'm most ashamed of is the night after I saw what I thought was your body on Lanie's table. Because that was the night I went back to my apartment and opened the bottle of scotch I gave you for your birthday.

I started drinking, and I didn't stop.

Not when I cried myself sick in the bathtub. Not when I called your phone for the fiftieth time and listened to that ridiculous message just so I could hear your voice. Not when I stumbled and knocked over a candle in my bedroom and almost set the place on fire.

No, I didn't stop until my neighbor's door slammed shut, and the noise triggered a flashback. The bottle shattered when I hit the floor still holding it. Had to throw out that shirt thanks to all the blood.

I should have had stitches, but by the time Lanie saw the cuts, she said it was too late to suture them. She got the last of the glass out, at least.

It was an immature, irresponsible thing to do. It was weak. It was my dad's way.

I knew that when I woke up the next morning, face down on my living room floor, half buried in a pile of Derrick Storm and Nikki Heat hardbacks I had pulled off my shelves.

But now? Now I have a sinking, twisting ball in the pit of my stomach.

Because I will carry those scars for the rest of my life.

But now someone else may, as well.


	41. Chapter 41

6/28/2014

Castle I'm on a plane.

I only hope when I fly back home, you'll be right here in the seat beside me.


	42. Chapter 42

6/29/2014

I was at the murder board when Paula called me yesterday morning. She asked me if I read any international tabloids.

In my current mostly-decaffeinated state, that question didn't go over well.

Someone saw you. Some tabloid magazine in France published a picture of you on the Riviera. The image was out of focus, but that was your profile. I would know it in my sleep. I've traced it enough times with my fingertips in the dark.

"Runaway Groom?" was the rough translation of the caption headline. They said you were spotted outside an exclusive party, unshaven and "entirely single" with "no fiancé" on your arm.

I got shot down by the FBI, and then I got into a shouting match with Gates. In the end, I took a leave of absence and booked a ticket on the red-eye to Nice.

I'm here now.

The photographer was less than impressed with my broken French, but he swears he didn't see where you went, or with whom. He says he realized who you were and shot the photo, then moved on to the "légitimement célèbre"member of the glitterati he was following in the first place. His editor happened to be a fan of your books, so she used the photo for this week's edition.

That was Wednesday, Castle. I'm sitting on a bench not ten feet from where that photo was shot four days ago.

You're going to think I'm insane, but I don't care. I'm saying it anyway.

I feel you.

I feel your presence.

You were standing right here.

I don't know why, and I don't know for how long, but God damn it, you were here, and you were alive four days ago.

I'm crying on a bench on the French Riviera, typing on your laptop as the beautiful people walk by. Most are kind enough not to stare.

Is this what they mean when they say the hormones make you a little crazy?

But I don't feel crazy. I just feel _sure_.


	43. Chapter 43

6/30/2014

My phone says it's 4AM. I just woke up in my clothes, face down on the duvet, mascara smeared everywhere. I guess I slept through the room service I ordered when I got in four hours ago.

There was a witness. A woman, standing in the background of that photo, an artist. I was canvassing all along the Promenade des Anglais, and when she saw your photo she started speaking too quickly for me to understand, waving her phone around. Once I got her to slow down, I could make out that a man who looked like you, but with a scraggly beard, came out of a group of party-goers looking lost. You mimed to use her cell phone, and even though she thought you must be a "crazy American," she gave it to you, because you had "yeux honnêtes" - honest eyes. But before you could make your call, you saw someone in the crowd and panicked, shoved the phone back at her, and took off down the Promenade.

She was so flustered, she saved the number you typed. It was my cell number, Castle.


	44. Chapter 44

7/1/2014

The tears wouldn't stop.

From the moment I saw your face, flashing grainy and gray across that screen, they kept coming.

And so did my smile.


	45. Chapter 45

7/2/2014

Proof.

It's what everyone has been asking for.

Something that doesn't involve a fluke, or a coincidence, or a _feeling._

It's what I haven't had.

Until now.

Last Wednesday at 9:47PM.

Gray. Grainy. Far from the lens.

But you _were_ the man in that security footage.

I know, because as soon as you came on the screen, the tears started.

There was no sobbing - nothing messy or red-faced - just a steady stream and an occasional sniff as I paused, rewound, played it again, slowed it down to study every frame of those six seconds.

The very kind French officer helping me with the videos handed me his handkerchief and made a copy for me.

We searched every home and business along that stretch of the Promenade, but we only found you on the one camera. We didn't see from whom you were running.

But after all these weeks, six seconds were enough.


	46. Chapter 46

7/3/2014

I've worn out my welcome with the police. They've been helpful and so patient with the crazy American looking for her fiancee. I think they suspect you may be hiding from an obsessed ex who happens to have law enforcement connections back home. Whether it was professional courtesy or pity for a jilted bride that initially compelled them to help me, those feelings have worn off now.

They helped secure hours of footage, even questioned the residents and business owners in the buildings near the one that caught you on video. But no one noticed anything amiss. No one saw a chase or a struggle or heard you cry out for help. And they weren't there to see your car, or the van, or the warehouse. They see a playboy, playing. I can't completely blame them, even though I know it is the furthest thing from the truth.

The State Department, on the other hand, needs to get its head out of its ass and help me. The FBI isn't interested in tabloid photographs, but you are an American citizen, being held against your will on foreign soil. But I can only make the argument that you are _here_ and coming was _against your will_ in so many ways before they stop taking my calls.

It's been over a week since that camera caught you. Over a week, and not another sighting, or ping on your financials, or attempt to contact anyone. If you had gotten away, you would have surely surfaced by now. So I have to assume they have you again, whomever "they" are. And they are probably smart enough to find a way to get you far from here.

Ugh. I need sleep.

I can feel the exhaustion down to my bones. I'm realizing that no matter what I could do before, how many hours and days I could pull without more than an occasional nap, that isn't how my body works now. Sometimes it shuts down, and there is nothing I can do but sleep.

I don't know how much longer I can do this. I think I need to go home. But every time my mind flashes to "home," all I see is you.


	47. Chapter 47

7/4/2014

Martha and Alexis called again tonight, like every night since I've been gone. They wished me a happy Fourth of July. I think I could hear the note of recognition in your mother's voice of the irony of wishing me a happy holiday-involving-freedom-and-fiery-explosions.

They were so happy to see the film of you when I sent the file to Alexis. When they watched the first time, they were on the line with me. I could hear Alexis holding her breath as it started - the file had about ten seconds of footage before you came on the screen. Then Martha let out a whoop, and Alexis sucked in a breath. I thought she might have been crying, but a second later she giggled, and then she laughed. I haven't heard either of them so happy since May.

But tonight they sounded... concerned. They told me to come back home.

I swore to myself when I left that I wouldn't go back until I had you with me.


	48. Chapter 48

7/5/2014

Agent Shaw called me today. She's taking over your case from the team that had been working it at the FBI. It's personal, something she's going to work on the side, I think. She closed her latest high-profile serial, and she said she was, "Just returning the favor."

She asked for everything we've got. I'm having the boys and Lanie send over copies of what NYPD has, and I'm putting her in touch with Chief Brady and the officers in charge from Connecticut and Nice.

This is big, Castle. You know Jordan Shaw. You've said I'm the best the NYPD's ever seen; she's it at the FBI. If anyone can find you, she can.

She wants to meet with me Monday morning to review all the material. I guess I'm going home. Thanks to her, instead of defeat, it feels like a fresh start.


	49. Chapter 49

7/6/2014

Got in late. Decided not to wake up your family; I came to my place instead of the loft. I'm too wired to sleep (for once). So I've been working on putting everything together for Agent Shaw.

The give of the wood under the push of each pin is familiar. Lining up edges, printing names and dates, it's somehow therapeutic, straightening out the tangled threads, even as it breaks my heart. Cataloguing the hurt, one detail at a time, helps me parse it, contain it, put it somewhere so it isn't always right at the surface of consciousness. If the story is here, it doesn't have to run on unending repeat, buzzing through my brain.

I know how to deal with pain in pieces: specific, categorized, sterile. Taking it apart takes away some of its power.

You helped me take down all those pieces from these shutters once. You'll be here to do it again.


	50. Chapter 50

7/7/2014

She knew, Castle. _No one_ knows, but she took one look at me, and she knew.

You would say the woman has creepy, witchy, magical powers.

Obviously the hormones have affected my poker face, because the moment she brought it up, "So when are you due?" I froze. No nod, no denial, just frozen.

"Oh, it's new then. Well, all the more reason to find him. Let's get to work."

And so we did.


	51. Chapter 51

7/8/2014

So I was right. This is a personal favor Jordan is doing on the side. She didn't show up with a smart board and take over the precinct. Just her, that ridiculous brain of hers, and all her resources. She only came to New York to get up to speed and to talk to as many of us who were involved in the initial investigation as she could, but she's going to continue to help from wherever her next case takes her.

I'll still be the boots on the ground here, but she's going to France, Castle, and I'm not entirely sure she didn't pay for the ticket out of her own pocket. She's taking the DNA results on the victim of the car crash, too. She says she has "one more place" to run them, but it will be a few days and she has to do it herself.

She thinks I need to go see Rogan and Tildy again. She guaranteed me that if I were still married to a former felon, I never would have been accepted for a federal law enforcement position. If the prior marriage was a setup, Rogan would be the weakest link. I'm going up to Willow Creek.

But not until after my appointment tomorrow.


	52. Chapter 52

7/9/2014

Oh, God. I can't stop crying.

Rick, they did an ultrasound today.

There was a lot of whooshing, and a bubble of black, and then sort of a blob, and she kept pointing to one spot or another and telling me what things were supposed to be, and taking measurements - she said my dates match - 10 weeks, and she handed me a little square photo.

I couldn't speak. I thought - I thought they did ultrasounds later. Months from now. When you would -

I didn't pay attention, or record it on my phone, or ask any questions...

None of it seemed real.

And when she was about to print the photo, and she asked how many copies, I had to say, "one."


	53. Chapter 53

7/10/2014

We closed a case today. The boys have been taking point since I went to France, and that's fine with me, because all I can think about is that little black square photo tucked into my wallet.

I keep tearing up in the middle of paperwork. And I have to eat all the time, even breakfast, and Castle you were supposed to _be here_.

You were supposed to hold my hand while we waited for the stick to change color, and go with me for the blood test, and pull out your calendar when they called with the results so we could put a big circle around the date and schedule all my appointments. You were supposed to cry when we had the first ultrasound.

You're the one who has done this before. You're the one who is supposed to talk me down when the hormones make me panic and make me think I have no business doing this and make me want to hide in bed and never come out. You are supposed to hold my hair when I'm sick and help me take off my boots when I can't reach my feet anymore, and get me through labor, and I can't do any of that alone. I can't.

Rick, what am I going to do if you're actually gone?


	54. Chapter 54

7/11/2014

Your mom found me asleep on the couch today. Early. Really early. I got home from work, and I didn't have the energy to take my shoes off. I practically fell onto the couch and didn't move until two hours later when Martha got home from rehearsal with her students. I'm sure she realized I had been asleep when she saw the creases on my face. She didn't say anything, but she looked me up and down with this knowing little glint in her eye.

I should tell them. They deserve to know.

This might be the only piece of you either of them has left.


	55. Chapter 55

7/12/2014

Rogan O'Leary is gone. And he took his girlfriend with him.

Some of his "creditors" assured me that he wouldn't be back.

Apparently, he paid them all off with interest about two weeks ago and said he and Tildy were making a new start.

Unfortunately, no one knows where.

The boys ran his financials, but he had no recent activity. He closed his accounts. Credit card, bank, everything. Tildy, too. She handed the keys to the bar to her sister and took off.

Shaw is trying to find out if some kind of witness protection is at play because of his mobster connections, but so far he just seems to have fallen off the face of the earth.

Castle, this is it. This has to be our break. Someone big is behind this, and I'll bet you a drive-through Vegas wedding that Rogan knows who it is.


	56. Chapter 56

7/13/2014

I told them.

I sat your mother and your daughter down in their living room - our living room - and I told them I'm pregnant.

I'm pregnant.

I don't -

I haven't even been able to think the word, but today I had to say it to a gently smiling actress whose acting failed her completely, and a young woman so stunned it took her three tries to ask if she had understood.

I had to tell your mother she's going to have another grandchild, your daughter, a half sibling.

Rick, I'm having a baby. Your baby. _Our_ baby.

There is a tiny future person growing inside of me right now.

A person we made together.

A person who is half you.

And you're not here.


	57. Chapter 57

7/14/2014

Alexis knocked on my door just as I was about to turn off the lamp and go to sleep last night. She kept standing outside, looking from the floor to my stomach, up and down, up and down, until I finally asked her to come in, sit with me.

On her way to the edge of the bed, she pulled a book out from behind her back, said it was one you read to her every night, even before she was born.

She brought it for the baby.

I was already blinking hard, thinking she was giving it to me to read, but then she looked up at me with those blue eyes - she has yours, you know - "Would it be okay if I-?"

I must have nodded somewhere in the middle of the tears and the sniffling and the smile, because she smiled back.

Your daughter scooted up next to me and opened that hardback with the tiny finger smudges and the crease in the title page and the purple unicorn bookmark stuck somewhere near the middle, and she read our baby the first poem.

"If you are a dreamer, come in..."

Alexis gets her imagination, her beautiful heart from her father.

Now with every poem, she's sharing those pieces of you.


	58. Chapter 58

7/15/2014

Sometimes it pays to have friends with all the coolest toys.

Jordan found them at Newark airport on the security cameras. Traced them as far as Dallas under the names of John and Jane White. Picked them up on the DFW cameras, but their tickets were under Greg and Marsha Black from DFW to Midland/Odessa. They rented a car in Odessa, and Jordan's team thought they had lost them, but cameras at the Rio Grande border crossing in Big Bend National Park picked up two people in sunglasses and hats otherwise matching their descriptions walking across in the direction of Boquillas. Their rental car was found abandoned in the park.

Rogan and Tildy disappeared into Mexico, multiple fake forms of identification in hand, almost two weeks ago, and nothing has been heard or seen of them since.

Those two don't have the wherewithal to disappear in a Jersey outlet mall, much less a foreign country.

They've obviously had help.

Even the coolest toys can't follow a trail that vanishes into thin air.


	59. Chapter 59

7/16/2014

Alexis asked if she could sign me up for one of those weekly emails. Since my doctor asked me what I was reading at my visit last week, and I had no answer for her, I told Alexis that she could.

Once I got past the comparison of our baby to a piece of fruit, the information was actually… good. Detailed, but not overwhelming.

I should be reading more. I should get a book. By now you would have bought seven - no, ten - books. And subscribed to every website. We would already be enrolled in childbirth classes.

Oh god, I guess I have to do that. Find a class.

And a partner.


	60. Chapter 60

7/17/2014

I'm exhausted.

The sun has barely gone down, but I can barely keep my eyes open.

I just misspelled "barely" three times.

I'm supposed to be reviewing Jordan's transcripts from France, but I'm starting to think in bad tourist French.\

Counterproductive. Going to sleep.

Maybe tonight I'll get to kiss you in a dream..


	61. Chapter 61

7/18/2014

A letter came to the precinct today. A letter from Rogan.

It had no return address, just a postmark from a week ago in Rio and World Cup stamps.

He didn't sign it, but no one else would call me that inane nickname (and I don't care about "kitten;" if you ever refer to me as a candy bar I will kick you out of the precinct faster than you can say "Snickers").

It was an apology. A sentence about how we'd always had fun, and he didn't want my only memory of him to be the last one. He said he hadn't had a choice - no other explanation.

He knows, Castle. He knows who has you.

"Don't chase him. These are not people you want to know. If they get what they want, he'll come home."

If I could just find him, I know I could get him to talk. Jordan has the letter now. She's running it through FBI forensics to see if she can get us anything more concrete on its origin.

I knew no matter how young or how stupid I might have been, I wouldn't have married Rogan. From the time I was a little girl, I've been waiting to find what my parents had - love, and respect, and a partnership in every sense of the word. So many times I was sure I would never find that kind of magic. And then I found you.

Maybe with Rogan's help, I can find you again.


	62. Chapter 62

7/19/2014

I told my dad. We went to our diner for lunch today, and I sort of blurted it out right after the waitress took our orders.

He was thrilled. Absolutely thrilled. I'll bet he's looking for "World's Best Grandpa" golf shirts already. He asked for his own copy of the ultrasound. Between your family and him, I gave up and took a photo of the original on my phone and emailed it to Alexis and Martha as well as my dad. He pulled it up right then and set it as his iPhone background.

I haven't seen him so happy since the night we told him we were engaged. He was beaming the rest of our meal.

For that hour, it was almost like nothing was wrong in the world, like you weren't gone, and our wedding went off without a hitch, and of course we got pregnant on the honeymoon. Amazing how fathers can cling to illusions when it comes to their daughters despite all evidence to the contrary. You wouldn't know anything about that, now, would you?

The elephant had been sitting pretty quietly in the corner the whole time. It wasn't until we were standing outside, hugging goodbye, that he asked if I needed anything, since you weren't here. But even as I smiled and told him no, that I had Martha and Alexis to fuss over me, the tears caught up with my words.

He held on while I cried; people passing us on the sidewalk probably thought I was mentally unstable. But when I finally stopped, he took me by the shoulders and looked me in the eye and said:

"He is not your mother. Katie, he's alive. He_ will _come back."

I nodded and smiled and made it all the way home on the conviction in his voice.

But when every lead seems to evaporate, and nothing about any of this makes sense, sometimes conviction isn't enough.

I need proof.

No, really, I just need you.


	63. Chapter 63

7/20/2014

I got the call from Shaw at 6AM.

The _Times_ headline read: "American tourists killed in Brazil bus accident."

Castle, Rogan O'Leary and Tildy McGuire are dead.


	64. Chapter 64

7/21/2014

Shaw is relying on the State Department's intel, but the bodies had Rogan and Tildy's original passports on them.

Everything about this smells like a professional hit.

The letter arriving two days ago would be too much of a coincidence otherwise. Shaw's inquiries must have tipped off someone involved in this mess. She kept the questions quiet, and that speaks to how far it reaches, how big it must be.

I think some of your writer's brain has rubbed off on me, because I can't help but wonder if you dad is somehow involved.

And spiraling with the conspiracy theories, I also cannot get past the one fact that I'm afraid I'm not imagining: Rogan was killed for trying to help me.


	65. Chapter 65

7/22/2014

Shaw got a hit on her search for the DNA from the body in your car.

I'm on a plane to DC to meet her.

After what happened to Rogan, she will only tell me in person.


	66. Chapter 66

7/23/2014

This is something, Castle. This may be the break we've been waiting for.

Your stand-in in the crash? He was an elite operative.

My crazy theory about your dad being involved may not be so crazy after all.

But at the same time, after every lead that's turned cold in this case so far, I'm not getting my hopes up too high.

Jordan and I have gone over the details start to finish three times, and we're waiting on her friend who helped with the DNA to get back to us with more details about this mystery man. She's hopeful. That's helping.

The email service Alexis signed me up for says I'm 12 weeks this week. It said the queasiness is supposed to be getting better. But god, the plane down here last night was awful on my stomach.

Jordan just keeps handing me packs of saltines. I have no idea how she knows they are the only thing that helps, or why she has a seemingly endless supply in her desk drawer, car console, and handbag, but after my first polite refusal was met with that look - the "you-should-do-this-because-I-know-better-even-if-you-don't-want-to" look, I just started munching them every time she passes one over.

It's like she has a blood sugar monitor that pings when I start to dip. Or maybe I just get that cranky. Anyway, she's starting to remind me a little of you, with the constant feeding.

Speaking of which, I'm at my hotel, and my pajamas are on, but the stupid room service for this time of night has almost nothing I can eat. If you were here, you'd have thought ahead, ordered from Paradiso - oh, the one with the olives and the anchovies and the mushrooms, and the bubbly, gooey cheese we got every time you came down. I would have yummy pizza and a foot rub and someone to fill up this empty, empty… bed.

But Paradiso closed at eleven.

Grilled cheese and soggy fries it is.


	67. Chapter 67

7/24/2014

Shaw's contact, she won't even tell me who or where or what they are, but he traced the operative in your car back to a small group of what we might call "work buddies," something spies never have, known only by code names.

We can't identify the members because they referred to each other by something completely separate from any name they used in an op. Ghosts.

But they had a hang-out.

It was an empty chateau just outside Nice.

I'm on my way, Rick. I'm on my way.


	68. Chapter 68

7/25/2014

Fuck. Fuck. Castle, there's so much blood. There's an empty house and some metal chairs and a pool of blood so big…

Shaw wouldn't say it. I couldn't hold it together as it was, and I think she knew if she said it, I might come completely undone.

But I know what she was thinking. It's what I would be thinking at a crime scene. Someone loses that much blood, they don't walk away.

There was a trail, though. A trail that went as far as the gravel drive and then disappeared. Shaw is calling in favors. "Every favor I've got, Kate."

And she's running DNA on the blood.

It's fresh. Still bright red, sticky, I think I imagined warm. Maybe just a few hours old if that. God, if this is where… I don't know what I'll do. I can't go home. I can't leave again without knowing what happened, whether it happened to you.


	69. Chapter 69

7/26/2014

Castle, I didn't know your blood type. Why didn't I know your blood type? You spouted off Alexis' in the same sort of situation. I couldn't tell the forensic pathologist. I couldn't call your mom. I don't want to have to tell them anything until I know for sure. But luckily Lanie had it in her records from the last time we ran forensics on you.

It was a match, Rick. That pool of blood on that hardwood floor matches your blood type. It doesn't mean it actually came from you, but now, even with the biggest rush they can put on it, I won't know for sure if it was you for 2 days.

When the man said it matched, I had to run outside. Even when everything was out, I couldn't stop. Jordan found me around the side of the garage in the trees, kneeling on the grass, heaving and crying and I couldn't stop.

She just got down there with me and put her hand on my back and kept saying over and over, "We can't be sure it's his."

I don't know how long we were there, but when I could finally take a breath and sit up, she handed me a bottle of club soda and a pack of saltines and sat quietly while I managed to swallow it all down. Then she helped me up, dusted me off, and found me a bathroom.

I didn't sleep last night. I kept imagining all the ways that blood could have-

We hit the investigation hard today. Jordan had satellite images of the house and grounds back for months, showing the same white van entering, staying put for weeks, finally leaving only to return a few hours later. That was the day the photo was taken of you on the Riviera.

The car left again about two hours before we arrived yesterday.

Two. Hours.


	70. Chapter 70

7/27/2014

She kicked me out. Agent Shaw said I was "no longer an asset to the investigation," and that I should get some rest.

It may have had something to do with the outburst about how much faster Lanie could have rushed DNA results back for us. Or it may have been about my running out of the room in tears three times this morning to empty my stomach. But most likely it was my inability to focus, my eyes closing every few minutes since I arrived, thanks to my complete lack of sleep from the night before.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that blood.

So I spent a day in France, walking along the Riviera, surrounded by couples, lovers. There were these two tourists, walking hand-in-hand, and the man had broad shoulders, dark hair. From behind, he almost looked… But he was wearing a backpack, facing forward. When they stopped to take a photo, I saw it wasn't a backpack, it was a baby carrier, and there was a tiny hand sticking out from one side, fisted in the light blue cotton of his shirt.

I came back to my hotel room and slept after that, dreaming of a perfect little baby with wavy hair and bright blue eyes, safe and warm in its father's arms.

I need it not to be a dream, Rick. I need my partner.


	71. Chapter 71

7/28/2014

I slept all night last night. Dreamed about you again. Woke up smiling, in the middle of one of them, sun streaming through the curtains onto my bed.

I don't actually remember anything about the dreams. I must have slept pretty hard not to recall even an image. But I know you were in them, because before I opened my eyes, I could smell your scent in the bed with me.

After sleeping all afternoon yesterday and all night last night, I tried calling Shaw, asked to come back. She said absolutely not.

No DNA results yet, though. She promised to call the minute they come in.

I ate ridiculous food today. Things you would have approved of, even, though none of the whipped cream came from a spray can.

I called our families tonight. Not that I had anything to tell them, but it helped to hear their voices. And when I told Alexis about eating ice cream for lunch, she made me put my phone on speaker and read the baby "Eighteen Flavors" for their bedtime poem.

You raised an amazing kid, Rick. I need you here so you can do it again.


End file.
